


Emergency

by astrxd



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, RTTE-Based, Tumblr request, basically heather is staying w/ astrid, heather is suspicious., hiccup walks into her hut via sidedoor, oh also hiccup is stressed out over dragons but what else is new right??, season 3 episode 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 07:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15044267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrxd/pseuds/astrxd
Summary: “He probably just needs to talk. Not an emergency.”“Oh, please, Astrid. Why else would he use your emergency door?”“Because, well… Well, I don’t know. He’s Hiccup. He does whatever he wants,” Astrid shrugs, her response sounding a the tiniest bit curt under Heather’s rapid-fire retort. He would have butted in at that, and he was prepared to, but a moment of contemplation brought clarity to her statement -- it was kind of true, actually.“Valid point,” Heather laughs. “Still, your front door was working just fine when I used it.”“Like I said -- he’s Hiccup.”“Implying Hiccup gets to use your emergency door whenever he wants, even in the middle of the night?”[written feb 25 2017]





	Emergency

 

Hiccup was seated at his desk with several pieces of parchment spread out before him: one depicted the immediate waters surrounding the Edge, while another was a census of Nadders, organized by time, flock number, altitude, and direction. The third, however…

The third was simply a myriad of scribbles and doodles and scribbled-out doodles, all completed while he made fruitless attempts to connect disparate dots and mismatching puzzle pieces. Hiccup stared down at the map and furrowed his brow, glancing between two documents, trying to make sense of the numbers--

(He tapped the metal of his prosthesis against the wooden floorboards of his hut. He drummed his fingers on the surface of the table. He cast his gaze toward the corner of the room, momentarily letting it linger on a slumbering Toothless… Before scrubbing a hand down his face as he rose from his seat.)

\--Even after half an hour of trying to analyze the data, the figures glaring up at him  _still_ didn’t make sense.

When the Nadders passed through the area earlier in the year to make their return, there had been many, many  _more_ of them. Granted, it was entirely possible that he may have just miscounted the populations of the herds, or the other groups took alternate routes, or simply were just  _delayed_ , but Hiccup was still worried -- reasonably so, too, what with the potential things that may have caused the discrepancies between the data he and the other riders collected.

Maybe they weren’t even delayed. Maybe some of the Nadders ended up--  
  
No.  _No_ , he refused to believe it, for the sake of his own sanity. Regardless of how plausible it was. The thought of an entire group -- or even multiple flocks -- of Deadly Nadders in the Hunters’ clutches brought a sick, twisting feeling to his stomach.   
  
Frustrated, Hiccup dismissed the prospect with a huff and started to roll up the sheets of parchment, if only to pry his eyes away from the numbers. He knew, deep down, that he was being just a  _little_  bit paranoid, but no matter how many times he tried to reassure himself that things would be okay… The safety (and frightening, heartbreaking lack thereof) of every dragon out there still managed to fray his nerves. They all knew what Hunters put Deadly Nadders through -- Stormfly especially -- so with all of the quills an entire flock or two would provide for them…   
  
It wasn’t the most pleasant thought, and he was basically powerless.  _Basically --_ but not entirely. And that’s what hurt the most.  
  
Hiccup knew that he could do  _something_  to help; he just… Didn’t know  _what_.  
  
His legs moved on their own volition. Before he could truly register it, he found himself beneath a canopy of stars and walking the path toward Astrid’s hut -- a walk he’s completed many a times. It’s only when he stands outside of the side door that leads directly into her room that he processes where he is, but at that point, he doesn’t feel like staying in his hut -- a place where he knew that he’d be compelled to lash out.   
  
At himself, no less. Toothless didn’t need to be woken -- not after the long day they both had.  
  
A heavy sigh was drawn from his lips and his shoulders sagged, all while a sudden wave of fatigue that he wasn’t initially aware of weighed down on him. In the midst of everything happening, Hiccup had neglected to catch up on lost hours of sleep spent trying to figure out their next move, and a shorter temper and an inability to think very rationally were both results of his carelessness.  
  
(That was the ironic part. He cared so much, he’d become  _careless._ When would it end? All of the crippling irony and the mind games and the reverse psychology?)  
  
The prospect of Astrid’s company became much more appealing by the moment. At least with her, he could place his trust in her straightforwardness -- in how direct she was with him. Hiccup resigned himself to dropping his forehead against the wooden door in surrender to his sudden wave of tiredness, and if it hadn’t been for the cool breeze sweeping across the nape of his neck, he certainly could have fallen asleep right then and there. A dry thought of how hilariously  _compromising_  such a position would be if he slept through the morning crossed his mind, but like the wind, it was gone in an instant.   
  
Without consideration of how late it was, Hiccup rapped his knuckles against the door in a rhythm that was engraved into his heart. Sure, it was possible that Astrid was asleep -- but it’d be fine. He just… He just needed to know that he  _wasn’t_ completely losing his mind.  
  
That, and, with everything that happened earlier that day, it almost felt as if he hadn’t exchanged anything more than a few words with Astrid. That simply wouldn’t do.  
  
He didn’t wait for a response -- neither of them ever did, not when it came to their evening rendezvous, both impromptu or planned. “Hey,” he greeted, having only cracked the door open the slightest bit to further announce his arrival. “I really needed to--”  
  
His actions didn’t strike him as dire mistakes until he fully slipped inside… Because that was when he found that Astrid wasn’t in her hut alone. Sitting with her on her bed was Heather.   
  
_Heather._    
  
_Odin’s beard_ , how did he  _forget?_  
  
“Hiccup,” Astrid announced, blinking blankly.   
  
“Astrid,” Hiccup managed, clearly a little stunned. “He-e-ey, Heather -- hi. Aha. Hey. You’re -- hi. Heather.”   
  
“Hiccup?” Heather repeated, leaning forward a little. In the light of the room, he could see the incredulity on her face (squinted eyes and knitted brows) -- as if the pitch of her voice wasn’t enough. Hiccup flinched at the accusatory tone and offered a nervous laugh… And an even more nervous wave. Then, a frantic glance in Astrid’s direction revealed her half-amused, half-mortified expression to him, but quite frankly, he didn’t know which side he agreed with more. Before he could stammer out an explanation or an apology, Heather turned back toward Astrid. “That’s a  _door?”_  
  
Hiccup muttered a swear under his breath. He  _could_ have just taken the opportunity to dip out of the hut and leave the two girls to themselves again, but that would most likely raise more questions. Instead, he stood his ground -- if “standing his ground” roughly translated to clearing his throat and casting his gaze elsewhere.

“It’s an emergency exit,” Astrid replied -- rather smoothly, too. He was proud of her for how nonchalant she sounded, seeing as he was standing at the “emergency exit” with flushed cheeks and fidgety fingers. “You sound surprised, Heather. Why  _wouldn’t_  I have one of those? There’s are hatches and ladders above and beneath my bed, too. Who do you think I am?”   
  
It was as if she were completely nonplussed by the fact that he  _just_ walked into her hut in the middle of the night with a set of quiet knocks as his only preamble. When worded like that, it didn’t sound that bad… But when Heather sent him a wolfish smirk, Hiccup’s spine went rigid.  
  
“So this must be an  _emergency_ ,” Heather drawled, already about to stand up. Astrid beat her to it -- she set a hand on Heather’s shoulder and stood up first, though Heather rose to her feet anyway. After that, it was almost as if he didn’t exist for a couple of exchanges.  
  
“He probably just needs to talk. Not an emergency.”  
  
“Oh, please, Astrid. Why else would he use your  _emergency_  door?”  
  
“Because, well… Well, I don’t know. He’s  _Hiccup_. He does whatever he wants,” Astrid shrugs, her response sounding a the tiniest bit curt under Heather’s rapid-fire retort. He would have butted in at that, and he was prepared to, but a moment of contemplation brought clarity to her statement -- it was kind of true, actually.  
  
“Valid point,” Heather laughs. “Still, your front door was working just fine when  _I_ used it.”  
  
“Like I said -- he’s Hiccup.”  
  
“Implying  _Hiccup_ gets to use your emergency door whenever he wants, even in the middle of the night?”  
  
“Well, yes -- I mean,  _no._ I just, I guess I forgot to tell you? That we… Do this. These -- evening debriefs, and -- and reports! About what’s happening on the Edge, and such. Just so we’re all on the same page, should a crisis arise.”  
  
Heather arches a brow at her.  
  
“Pardon my asking, but I guess I should just know for future reference, if I’ll be here a while -- are these  _debriefings_ ,” Heather seems to snicker at the word, and Hiccup reddens a little when he connects the dots, “with Hiccup private, or does Snotlout or the twins of Fishlegs sit in on them? Because, you know, I can give you two your  _privacy--”_  
  
Okay. He’d been a little amused by the back-and-forth taking place before him, mostly because his presence had gone momentarily forgotten, but that comment was a little too close to comfort -- what with the chance for Heather to make assumptions that Hiccup would rather not give the potential to start to circulate.  
  
“Aha, haha, ha -- um, no, nothing like that, I just needed to tell Astrid… Something?” Hiccup finally interjected, lifting one hand, even though he already spoke out of turn. Heather snorted and set either of her hands on her hips; Astrid sighed and folded her arms, allowing a brief moment of silence to wash over the three of them.   
  
It’s then, and only then, that Hiccup really notices the fact that Astrid lacked both her usual braid and her armor, leaving her in but wool leggings and a lengthy tunic he’s seen her uses as night clothes -- while it’s not as if seeing her in such a state was foreign, it still felt a little… Strange. What with the company of a third party who was making rather suggestive comments, alongside the fact that he’s only ever been able to see Astrid Hofferson in such a state when they were  _alone_.  
  
...Nonetheless, the wavy cascade of pale gold framing her face created an image that was nothing short of mesmerizing. He would have continued to stare, if not for her speaking up and slicing through the quiet.  
  
“…It’s the Nadders, isn’t it?” Astrid guessed gently; softly -- correctly, too. The curious gleam in her eyes seemed to fade when he nodded, even though he had confirmed her suspicions a little hesitantly. Granted, Hiccup should have known that his worry would be painfully obvious to  _Astrid_ , of all people, but even so, he deflated upon seeing concern flood her expression.   
  
Ah, yes. The pros and cons of being like an open book in Astrid Hofferson’s eyes -- a pro being she could figure out what he was feeling or thinking with just a single glance, and a con being exactly that, too. While it wasn’t as if there was anything he needed to keep from her, nor was it as if he didn’t trust her with his life, sometimes…   
  
Sometimes, Hiccup would feel more comfortable knowing that it wasn’t  _that_ easy for her to start worrying about him. She had her own problems -- though many overlapped with his own, it still didn’t always feel like the greatest thing in the world to throw his baggage onto her shoulders, too.  
  
Then again, he also supposed that that was why  _they_ just worked so well: every burden was, in essence, a burden shared.  
  
And this was just one of them, then.  
  
“The numbers are concerning,” he finally states, filling the gap of silence that had settled between all three of them before casting a brief, apologetic glance in Heather’s direction. The slight smugness in her expression hadn’t fully dissipated in the presence of her own tinge of worry, but she was already stepping away to… Give them that privacy, maybe? Her next words had that sort of implication, at least.  
  
“That… Sounds like an emergency. So, I’m gonna go check on Windshear,” she announced, before pausing in her steps to look over her shoulder at the two of them. “Using the  _front_ door.”  
  
“You can stay,” Astrid assured her instead, rather quickly. She seemed to have caught herself there, and elected to then clear her throat and step forward to stand beside him, pivoting on her heels to do so. “I’ll head to Hiccup’s hut so you can get some rest.”  
  
The entire time, Astrid hadn’t dropped her gaze from Hiccup. On one hand, the concern swimming in her eyes was maddening, but her eyes themselves were also…  _Maddening_. It was a little strange, since Heather was still in the room, though Hiccup didn’t look away either.  
  
“…No, no -- if, if anything, we can just -- talk in the morning and--”  
  
Before he could finish, the sound of a door thudding shut had cut him off. All that remained of Heather was a memory of an impish upturn of her lips and her belongings amongst Astrid’s.  
  
“--Aaand she’s already gone. Great,” Hiccup sighed, shaking his head. The urge to drag his hand down his face was strong, but he opted for just rubbing his temples instead. “Now -- now, Heather thinks I just, barge into your hut in the evening using some secret side door to avoid being spotted by the gang. That’s definitely  _not_ going to be seen as an, an invitation, of sorts, for them to question our privacy.”  
  
“You say that as if it’s not true, Hiccup. If you haven’t noticed, that’s kind of exactly what you do.” She smiled gently and took his hand, and a smile in return was impossible for him to deny her. “Besides, it’s only Heather. And, well, hey -- if it makes you feel any better, your expression  _was_  kind of priceless.”  
  
She laced her fingers with his, her eyes briefly revealing her concerns as she tugged him toward her bed. The bed frame creaked quietly as they sat down, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, hands still joined. Hiccup wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“Ha, ha. I’m glad  _one_ of us is getting some amusement out of this,” he drawls, causing Astrid to nudge her elbow into his side.   
  
“Me, too, babe,” she quips, laughter still in her voice -- but only for a moment. There’s a significant shift in the mood of the room, and her fingers tighten around his. “So… The Nadders?”  
  
Hiccup’s expression falls. For a moment -- just a few -- the situation at hand had left the forefront of his mind. He could feel his heart race with worry, and a knot form in the base of his throat, rising and rising until he could hardly get out a single word without his voice sounding strained. Astrid had taken to tracing idle circles on his knee with her free hand, which was slightly distracting… But only slightly.  
  
“There’s  _less,”_  he finally manages, expression steely. “A lot less. And I don’t like thinking that--”  
  
“I know,” she says hurriedly, saving him from having to even  _utter_ the words. Furrowed brows and all, he gives her an appreciative little smile, but it’s quick to fade.  
  
“--because it makes me feel like--”  
  
“You and I both know that--”  
  
“--like I, somehow,  _failed_ to keep all of those--”  
  
“--none of this--”  
  
“--Nadders safe from--”  
  
Hiccup faltered there, so Astrid’s words were all he heard. She lets go of her hand to wrap her arm around his shoulders. He lets her, and conforms to the way she tugs him in, eventually leaning his head against hers. He finds unwavering comfort in the position; in her presence.   
  
“--None of this is your fault.”  
  
The tone of her voice was gentle and firm; reassuring but resolute. It’s terribly  _Astrid_ , and he knows that there’s truth to her words, but he’s still hesitant to believe her. Not when Viggo has potentially gotten his hands on innocent dragons, and not when it’s possible that Hiccup could have probably done  _more_ to prevent such an outcome.   
  
“…But it feels like it  _is.”_  
  
“It’s not,” she repeats. At this point, she’s gotten up from her seat beside him to stand in front of him, and she’s placed her hands on either side of his neck. Instead of remaining standing, however, she cups his chin and stoops toward the ground, making it so that she’s the one looking up at  _him._

A deliberate move. A tactic she’s employed time and time again over the years. Hiccup knows what it means -- it means she’s serious, and he’s being unreasonable.   
  
…As per usual, anyway.   
  
Astrid angles his chin toward her, offering him the slightest of smiles when his eyes find hers. There’s a kiss somewhere there, and while he was a little too lost in his thoughts to actively return it, Astrid isn’t deterred by any means. When they part, her fingers are carding through the hair at the nape of his neck and he’s hunching over a little more, if only to be closer.  
  
“I  _was_ going to drop by  _your_ hut tonight,” she confesses, “but I don’t think Heather would sleep through even  _me_ sneaking out. So maybe we both get up early instead? See if there’s any straggling Nadders, patrol the island, keep an eye out for ships? It would help to have Stormfly out there with you.”  
  
It’s a proposition he can’t refuse, so he smiles in confirmation and brushes his nose against her own before the both of them stand up. By now, he’s comfortably settled either of his hands on her waist, and she’s got her arms looped around his neck. Hiccup boldly presses the slant of his lips to her own, kissing her quite thoroughly, before laughing a little -- for the first time that evening, no less.  
  
“Or,” he starts, grinning, “you could just say it’s an  _emergency_.”  
  
“Hardy-har-har,” Astrid sneers, not mean-spiritedly, as she gives him a peck on the cheek then a gentle shove toward the door. “I love you, too,” she adds, knowingly. “Now get out and get some sleep, Haddock. Before Heather really gets an idea of what we get up to at night.”

“Edge defense fortification plans?”  
  
“Get out of my hut.”

He complied with a broad grin, but when he looked back… He wasn’t looking ‘ _back’_ at all.  
  
Looking behind him -- at Astrid -- was the equivalent of looking at his  _future._


End file.
